


Whatever Your Heart Desire

by HecoHansen31



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Historically Inaccurate, Not Following The TV Series Storyline, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HecoHansen31/pseuds/HecoHansen31
Summary: A king comes knocking to your door each week, asking for news about his future and seeking out advise, thinking of you as a seer, a magical oracle, whereas you are nothing more than a simple woman, struggling to fight back your past.But suddenly you'll be brought together, in a plot against you both.
Relationships: Harald Finehair/Original Female Character(s), Harald Finehair/Reader, Harald Finehair/You
Kudos: 24





	1. The Visiting King

You found the king already waiting for you, inside your small hut.

And when you found him sat on your straw bed, you didn’t let any emotion linger on your face.

But simply welcomed him with an algid expression on your face.

“… welcome to my humble home, king Harald” you mumbled, as Harald Finehair came face to face with you, his handsome face definitely being the stuff of legend.

Alongside his arrogant smirk.

“You have heard of me” he seemed surprised, as if he wasn’t the warrior king everybody in Vestfold talked about.

As if he hadn’t followed you with his gaze the previous day at the market, spurred on by the rumors that circulated about you.

“… of course, my king” you bowed lightly your head, before you moved to collect some glass jars to start putting away the herbs you had collected during your walk in the woods that afternoon, hence proving the voices that went around you.

That you stored magic in the herbs you sold.

And that you knew what would happen in the future.

“Is it because you have foreseen my future?” his eyes sparkled with immediate interest, as everybody did when you told them that you were able to see their future, promising them what they wished for the most.

And king Harald didn’t seem an exception to that.

“I simply listen and watch attentively to the lives of men and women around me” you explained the ancient technique your mother had taught you, because although you might not truly own magic, you could make people believe you did “… and sometimes the gods whisper to me”.

And this had saved your lives many times.

In fact, you knew for a fact that king Harald, in all his brute force, wouldn’t have touched a single hair on your head.

He wouldn’t have dared, knowing that your lips might spill secrets that were unknown also to him.

“… and what have those whispers told you about me?” he asked you, the question everyone had for you “… what have you seen in my future, little one?”.

“An arrogant king, who doesn’t know to learn from his past mistakes”.

You saw him, being hit by your thoughts.

Hadn’t you been clouded and shadowed by this air of mystery that invested you, you knew that you’d already be dead.

Already struck for your ambitious words.

But Harald simply sent you a serious look.

“… is that what you truly think?”.

“Why don’t you find out, king Harald?”.


	2. The Ambitious King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Harald's first visit, he has kept on coming to your hut, but he isn't the only one, as one day you found a familiar face in your hut, searching for Harald's gold, setting an entire plan in motion.  
> And you are only left to accept Harald's proposal.

You didn’t worry as you saw a horse being left in front of your house.

Harald had come to visit you every Thursday since your first ‘prophecy’ to him, to gain the knowledge of his future and to know the mistakes of his past.

And today was indeed Thursday.

No matter how much you didn’t trust fully the king, his money was very much welcome in your home, no matter the fact that you were walking over a thin line, constantly risking to be discovered for the fake prophet you were.

You hadn’t pleasant words for him, because if you did, you wouldn’t have been able to properly make him believe that you were truly foreseeing his future.

Because you knew men like Harald: their future wouldn’t have ever been as successful as they wished it to be.

So, the first thing that you had told Harald when he had come to you again, after your first session, was that he had to focus on himself and not on his external ‘enemies’, which had made the blame away from him.

‘You might want the world, but you can’t have it without feeling well with yourself first’ you had explained, as you pushed him down onto the chair he was raising himself up.

And he had looked at you as if you had revealed some hidden truth.

He had handed you a hefty amount of cash, after that, and the following day he had proclaimed that he’d be staying in Vestfold, after his return from the war, instead of trying to take again Kattegat.

And although you could hear the familiar dissent through his earls, you knew that his people were happy to have the king back for a bit.

Even simply because they had to pay less the war taxes.

You knew that war had taken quite the toll on the people of Vestfold and you, on your own, had tried to help a few of the poorer with donations, although you had to admit that selling medical herbs and your own medical knowledge didn’t exactly permit you a luxurious life.

Harald’s money were indeed quite useful.

But although you were well aware that being Harald’s little ‘seer’ was quite fruitful, you knew that you couldn’t exactly last for much more than a season, even more when Harald wouldn’t see immediately the fruits of your suggestions.

He was an ambitious and impetuous man.

He wouldn’t wait to see what he had sowed.

He’d prefer to burn up the entire camp.

Hence, you had been trying to spare some coins to move away at the first signs of Harald’s disbelief in your methods.

Powerful men were downright dangerous.

Even more when they had a personal vendetta against women.

Your mother had known that all too well.

But till now, Harald had been nothing more than a lapdog, more than willing to endure your tongue-lashings in hope that they might win him new kingdoms and riches.

Poor fool.

He had already enough of that, alongside glory and fame.

And yet he searched for more.

He didn’t know that the Gods always frowned upon those who reached further than They allowed.

And eventually they’d strike them down for that.

You didn’t need to be a seer to see that Harald’s fatal flaw would have been his end.

And no matter what sweet words you spoke in his ear, destiny wouldn’t change.

Nobody could escape theirs.

You felt your head full with those thoughts, still, and pushed them away as you went to caress Harald’s horse, a soft white mare that immediately softened under your touch, as you questioned what had made Harald choose such a less threatening company, since he usually would come to you with his black stallion.

But you didn’t think too much of the horse, simply collecting store information in your mind.

What would you tell Harald, today?

That he shouldn’t underestimate the power of guilt he felt for having killed his brother?

That he had to finally confront the fact that he had reached the purpose he had set for himself, but it was still not enough for those around him?

Or that he fucking should stop pushing the blame on anyone but himself?

But you halted immediately as you moved to the threshold of the door, smelling a softer perfume than the one Harald wore naturally on his skin, something that brought you back to a shop you had visited earlier on your week.

The seamstress’ store.

Hence you weren’t surprised to find Jorun, the seamstress’ only son, who helped her out in the shop, inside your hut.

He was bit younger than you, but quite built and you couldn’t hide your uneasiness as you found him in your house, because one thing was to let Harald in, a dangerous man, but with an honorable conscience…

… and another was to let a boy like Jorun in.

An uncomfortable shiver run through your spine, as you tried to keep your breath even, comforting yourself and slapping a soft smile on your face.

You weren’t unused to finding guest in your house, but they certainly didn’t look as if they had been caught red-handed as Jorun was, looking through your herbs’ jars, a few crushed at his feet.

And you were quickly able to understand why Jorun was there.

You had spent quite the sum of money at the seamstress, a few days ago, the only vanity you had allowed with Harald’s money, ordering a few furs in case you were forced to run in the further North, and a dress, a pretty dress because you had fallen in love with the fabric, and asked Vidgis, the seamstress, to realize a dress for you with it.

Jorun had, probably, overheard your conversation and had formed this strange idea that you had gained quite a big sack of money for your services to the crown, and he had thought about stealing from you.

He knew where you lived.

He knew that you hadn’t the security measures many kept inside of the city, thinking that nature and whatever magic you wielded might would have protected you.

And he knew that you were a woman, easy to overcome, in case you came home early.

Like it had just happened.

He had lost his father in Harald’s many wars for conquering lands, and you knew that Vidgis had been struggling with her own shop.

Not many had enough wealth to buy a new dress, he certainly didn’t.

And he thought of taking what he thought was rightfully his.

In the end the money that Harald was paying you were the same ones that he paid monthly to him.

“If you had asked me, I would have given you the money” you breathed out, as you shifted against the threshold, aware that you hadn’t much choice, because if you had chosen to run away, he’d have laid waste to the hut and more importantly the few memories that you kept close to your heart “… I can still give you the money”.

And before you knew it, he was onto you, a knife at your throat, as you pleaded with him not to make any rushed decision.

Had Vidgis told her, she would have gladly given her the money she needed.

She would have paid straightforward the dress to help the woman.

But Vidgis was a proud woman, exactly like Harald.

But her son had had enough.

“Then show me where you stashed it” he intimated you, and you tried to push yourself a bit away from the blade of the knife at your throat, because you knew that with the way Jorun trembled, he could have made a big mistake.

This boy wasn’t cruel.

He hadn’t been born that way.

But hunger and vengeance had done this to him.

“They are under the fourth tile of my bedroom floor” your mother had taught you that: people could devastate an house and look through every trunks, but they wouldn’t have ever raised tiles to see what they hid.

Hence, they hid the most amazing of treasures.

“Then to your bedchamber, lady” he grimaced at you, as he led you through the small room, throwing you onto the bedroom, something for which you were grateful since his grip was so strong that it hurt you but he kept the knife unsheathed as a promise and he went to search for the money, finding it effectively.

But it was quite less than he had expected.

You had been hiding some somewhere else, deep in the forest.

And you had no intention of giving him that.

“That can’t be all…” he protested, as he threw the small bag of money across the room, before he jumped onto you on the bed, as you tried to shriek away.

Had you been able to reach out in the nightstand, you might have found your knife, stashed in the small beside table.

And although you had no intention to stab him, you hoped to put some fear in him.

Jorun wasn’t cruel or bad intentioned.

He was desperate and angry.

And that made him extremely more dangerous than a common criminal, so you hoped that pushing him to feel more fearful would have maybe made him to back off from you.

But as you were reaching out, he pushed you down on the bed, pinning your legs under his, effectively making you cease from moving any further away from him, as you tried to move your hands to push him off your body.

But although he might have been starved and malnourished, he still managed to be an unmovable rock against you, eventually pushing one of your arms back onto the bed with one of his elbows, the bone of it pushing down on your tender skin.

You certainly would have a bruise there the following day.

“Fucking tell me where you stashed it all, you whore” he spoke, although his voice left its strength through the quote, as it became more a whine, but you just fought against him, trying your best to get through him, to push him off you “… Harald must pay you well for fucking you”.

And then his mind became suddenly sharp, as a cunning smile appeared on his face.

And a shiver went down your spine, as you froze under him.

His eyes became wicked and he lost any pretense of humanity, becoming an animal guided from pure need and rage, and before you even knew it, he ripped the front of your dress, effectively baring your chest at him.

You shrieked and fought with one hand to hide yourself from him.

As you fought with your legs to try to kick him off, finally realizing what he’d do to you.

You’d already been in such a position, and the last time you had been barely out of childhood, praying to the gods that it’d end quickly but it had just continued, as your mother’s cold body laid a few steps away from you, her eyes looking at the sky as if they were sparing you the shame of catching her daughter in that act.

You had done everything in your life to try to fight this weakness.

To avoid returning under a man.

But now, it was happening.

And Jorun moved to push his pants down, as he scrunched your dress up, freeing your hands, which moved to slap his face, effectively blinding him and you managed to make your legs escape his hold, shooting a knee up and hitting his soft skin between his legs.

Then you tried to turn away, rolling off bed, your legs lightly numb but you were able to cradle as you felt Jorun screaming in pain.

If you could reach the door you’d been safe, you could close the door and push some piece of furniture against it, effectively trapping Jorunn inside your room.

But before you could move past it, you were yanked by a leg and Jorun this time straight up jumped onto you, as he fell on you, pinning you to the ground under his heavy body and you heard the noise of a bone breaking, before you felt the pain of it.

And with Jorun over you, you weren’t able to move away or try to free yourself from his hold, as he again scrunched up your dress, pushing his lips onto your neck, as you felt your body shaking and trembling as it all went back to that time, when a similar thing had happened.

And you closed your eyes, your body surrendering itself to the pain.

“… let me know why a king like so much sinking between your thighs, a fucking whoring bitch” and you closed your eyes, holding a tight breath in your chest.

And then you heard a scream, a male scream and you thought that you had been mistaking your memory with the present.

It sometimes happened to you that you’d forget where you were, because suddenly the past would overtake you and you’d be left in the memory of your shame.

But it wasn’t, and soon the weight of Jorun was pushed off your body, and you turned worried that he might have chosen to do something worse to you, but as you opened softly your eyes, you found out that you weren’t alone anymore with Jorun, but king Harald was holding him down against the ground, as the boy had done with you on the bed.

You tried to shift your weight in order to bring yourself back on your feet, but you leaned on the wrong arm, the pain of the broken bone inside of it making you hiss painfully, enough to attract Harald’s attention, who knocked out quickly Jorun slamming his head against your bedside table, before he came to you.

And more out of instinct than anything you pushed yourself away, fear shining in your eyes, as the king took it in, gently crouching down to you to calm your fear, offering you an hand, and waiting for you to accept it.

He pushed a blanket away from the trunk it was placed upon, and he gave it to you, to cover your naked breasts, not daring a simple look.

Then he helped you up, steadying you against him, but immediately leaving you as soon as he felt your discomfort, going to patrol over Jorun passed out body, a hint of blood coming out from his broken nose.

Hadn’t he tried to rape you a few moments before, you would have felt bad for him.

“I do think that you know him” mumbled Harald, slapping his face to see whether he was simply faking being passed out or he was truly, as you moved past him to check his pupils, finding out he had effectively passed out.

“He is Jorun, the seamstress’ son” you replied, tightly, as you tried to move over to the kitchen, where you had some herbs for the pain that was shooting through your arm, as if part of the bone had pierced the skin.

“Was he taking your measurements?” humored darkly Harald, following you, something for which you were thankful because he reached out for you to the taller shelves, as you showed him the herbs that would help you feel back to normal.

You proceeded to boil them as Harald took a seat on the kitchen table, as if you hadn’t a passed out boy in your room.

“He was trying to find the money you give me for my suggestions” you confessed, thinking that it was definitely not worth hiding anything, even more because Harald didn’t seem a man who liked being lied around.

It had already happened to him too many times.

“… then he isn’t only a rapist, but he is also a thief” he mused as he almost seemed to think about it “… I’ll bring him to justice, don’t fear my lady”.

As much as you hated the thought of letting Jorun go unpunished, you knew that having either his hand or his prick cut off for thievery and assault wouldn’t have done him or his mother any good.

“Don’t” you mumbled softly “… it won’t look good that you punish a rightful citizen of Vestfold for a witch, like me”.

Because although people wouldn’t certainly reject your coin, they hadn’t accepted you.

And you knew what they called you when you turned your shoulders to them.

And you knew what they said already about Harald for coming to you, every week.

Commoners could come to you to know whether their harvest would be good or not.

But their king?

It was shameful for him to be controlled so easily by a foreigner.

“… you know what he tried to do to you” he sent you a pointed look.

“I know” you mumbled, once the boiler whistled, signaling that your herbs had finished being boiled and you threw them in a bin nearby, grimacing at the strong smell in the pan, downing the beverage in one go “… but it wouldn’t… it’d make them do worse things to me”.

Your mother had taught you to act like a shadow in case things like this happened.

The villagers wouldn’t ever accept the meddling of a foreigner in their affairs.

“I can’t simply let him go” he spoke, almost as if he was seriously worried about you “… he would come back here and I am sure that this time he won’t try any attempt of courtesy”.

“You call almost raping a woman a ‘curtesy’?” you questioned him with harsh eyes, as he simply replied to you with a rough smirk on his face as if to say ‘then you know how much you are risking’.

“I won’t certainly leave you alone, at least for tonight” he proclaimed, As he moved from the chair he had sat onto, adjusting himself as if he owned the place, a sight you didn’t like “I’ll sleep with you, tonight, and then I’ll send some men, here”.

“That’d be a waste”.

You couldn’t understand why Harald felt this need to protect you.

He certainly valued you as some kind of trusted advisor.

But this didn’t justify the intense need of protecting you that he had gained after Jorun’s attack.

“… who is the king, (Y/N)?” he muttered tightly between his teeth, as if he didn’t expect you to deny him “My word is law”.

But you were a woman full of surprises.

“Because you are the king, you shouldn’t stay here” you retorted tightly “… I can handle myself”.

He shot a quick look at your locked bedchamber, where Jorun was sleep, as if to say: ‘are you sure’.

“I’ll stay here” he seemed unmovable and you believed that not even shoving him out of your house would have worked.

But at the same time, you didn’t want to shove him out.

“Do whatever you want, my king” you simply bit your lips, as you moved towards another small cabinet in your small kitchen, feeling Harald’s sharp eyes on you, meanwhile you got a few gauzes out of it, to properly push the bone in its rightful place, helping yourself with thin layers of wood.

Once you were done, you had a bit of relief, as the broken arm slung from your neck to keep its position steady, meanwhile Harald observed you carefully, almost fascinated by your knowing movements, helping you once you moved to the table to lay down your broken arm.

He passed you the gauze, as you pushed the bone in the rightful place, lightly number by the herbs, but you still felt tears coating your eyes, and Harald gently dried them with his rough thumb, without uttering a word, for which you were thankful.

Once you were finished, you both heard noises from you room and you turned to each other, now realizing that Jorun had woken up and before you could move to do anything, Harald lunged to the door, effectively coming face to face with a rather angry Jorun.

Whose face went straight up white as he took in his king.

“My… my king” he stammered, as Harald just looked at him with an annoyed look, before grabbing him by the scruff of his head, as he dragged him away, meanwhile Jorun protested, pleading and begging.

“I shouldn’t be the one who you need to address” muttered darkly Harald, as he sent you a light look, to make the boy know that you were the one on whose hands would come either his damnation or his safety.

“… lady… (Y/N)” he spoke softly, as he fell onto his knees, more for fear than true contrition “… I am sorry”.

“Harald… don’t…” you muttered, unable to withhold Jorun’s gaze, almost as if that pushed you to feel him again on top of you, entering the sanctuary of your legs, as your eyes shifted on Harald’s “… it is enough”.

“I don’t fucking think that it is, but… I’ll honor a lady’s word” he ushered at the boy with one last look.

And then he dragged him out, making sure that the moved onto his horse, before he released him from his glare, as you looked at the whole scene wondering what the Hel you had found yourself in.

* * *

“You’ll have to sleep on the floor” you mumbled as you took in the smallness of your bed.

Not that you had any intention of letting Harald sleep in your bed.

He might be a king, but he was a man.

A dangerously beautiful man.

“I have slept on worse” he mumbled, as he sat on the cold tiles, but you just shook your head, collecting a few blankets and an extra pillow for him, even going back to get some straw to make him feel better.

All mansions that Harald took upon himself, as he ushered out of the bedroom, leaving you a private moment that you took to slip in a nightgown, covering yourself with a thick fur, grateful for its warmth.

Harald had insisted, the entire night, for you to relax, but you hadn’t let him cook you dinner, since not only you had hidden a few poisonous herbs in your cabinets, but you didn’t trust him around a fire.

But still except that he had brought you anything, treating you almost as a goddess.

Something that made you blush and made your conscience heavy.

‘Why are you helping me?’ you had asked, as he washed the dishes, almost making a few crash, and destroy themselves on the ground ‘… I am nothing’.

‘You are a subject of mine’ he had answered, softly turning to you as you found yourself so close, that you could almost trace his wrinkles with the tip of your nose ‘… and you told me to take care of my subjects’.

But there was something more beneath it, lingering in his eyes, that for now you could only describe with curiosity lingering in his eyes.

And you weren’t sure it was a good thing.

As Harald came back he adjusted the straw and blankets to his own taste and then laid down there, and you took it as a cue to move yourself comfortably on top of the bed and go to sleep.

But you were sure that even ‘numbed’ with the herbs you wouldn’t have slept much.

“… if you need any more blankets, just ask me” you mumbled tightly, as you turned on the opposite side of him, hearing a grumble of assurance, as you spent the following first hour of sleep turning around in bed.

You were so unused to have somebody else in your room, that when you heard Harald’s voice you almost jumped out of bed, having forgotten for a moment that a king was sleeping on your floor.

“… (Y/N)?” it was your name and you moved to his side, worried that his old age had made him unable to move, but he looked honestly worried.

And not for himself.

“What is it?” you asked, faking a sleepy voice, but Harald didn’t buy it in the slightest.

“… are you cold?” he teased you, and you huffed at it.

“No, I am not”.

“Then what is making you roll around that bed, like a bear in lethargy” he retorted with a charming smile, that almost made you want to smack him across the face “… are you having trouble sleeping?”.

“… maybe” there wasn’t any need to lie.

The evidence was in front of his eyes.

And Harald would have probably annoyed you to death, hadn’t you given him an answer.

“Want to talk it out?”.

“I thought I was the advisor”.

“Something horrible has happened to you, I wouldn’t blame you, for…”.

“Honestly, you aren’t the person I’d like to talk about that with” you replied, as you turned far away from him, hoping that your bitterness would get him to leave you alone “… hope it didn’t offend you”.

“… just… it wasn’t the first time it happened to you, didn’t it?”.

You rolled on your back, focusing on the roof to shield yourself away from the memory of what had happened years ago.

“It is none of your business”.

Although you knew that with your words you had already said enough.

“I saw the way your body went taunt and still, under him and I…”.

“You knew it because you did the same Jorun tried to do to me”.

It certainly didn’t take a genius to know that men like Harald didn’t care for a ‘no’.

You knew it on your own skin.

It hadn’t been a normal soldier who had taken advantage of you.

“… it is war” he spoke, as if it justified the act, but you could almost taste the shame in those words, as if he wasn’t truly convinced of them “… it is different”.

“Not for the women” you mumbled, biting on your lips to keep you in that bed and not on the ground that ten years before had stolen your innocence “… it is always the same for us: laying on our back, hoping that the pain will be soon over as we feel the weight of our shame onto us”.

“(Y/N)” he tried to call you out, but you were too in deep in that memory.

“… pleading to be left alone, shrieking away and yet, pinned under your sweaty and horrible…”.

Harald’s hand reached out for yours, effectively pushing you out of your trance, as you opened the eyes you hadn’t realized you had closed, shocked back to reality by the sudden touch.

Your breath was heavy and for a few minutes you needed to calm yourself down.

As Harald moved himself so that he could sit on the bed, without touching you.

“… I know that…” he tried to speak, but your gaze was lost in the woods of your own mind “… I am sorry”.

“It doesn’t make up for anything…” you commented, breathing deeply as you brought your knees under you, closer to your stomach, which was starting to hurt due to the agitation in it, the tense muscles clenching almost painfully “… nobody will give me back my innocence”.

Harald seemed shocked by that as you turned to him, with your eyes teary and he reached forward, almost as if it was the most natural thing, brushing them away, much more softly than you had believed those rough hands to be.

And before you knew it, it all fell down.

The pain and hurt you had been feeling made you crash as you slumped against Harald, his arms gently circling you, as they didn’t understand whether you wanted to be hugged closed or to push him away.

But you quickly solved it for him, reaching out completely, as you felt your entire body finish its energy as you ended up falling in a dark hole.

* * *

You woke up with a heated body against you.

And for a moment you thought that you had gone back to the time you and your mother would sleep together in the single bed you owned, to warm up, since during many winter nights you hadn’t enough wood for a fire.

But soon, you felt something scratchy against your face, immediately realizing that you had a male beside you and as you raised yourself, careful about the heavy broken arm on your chest, as you took in Harald, still asleep next to you.

He looked so peacefully that you gently shook off a few strands of hair that had exited his tight braid, as your hands lingered further on his face, as you weren’t able to push yourself to leave that male handsomeness alone.

And eventually he woke up.

Much to your and his surprise, as you immediately moved further away, acting as if nothing had happened.

As if you hadn’t slept next to the king, breath to breath.

Your cheek was slightly irritated by his beard, having slept so close to him that you had been almost in his lap.

Something that just made you blush further.

And to his own advantage Harald didn’t ask you anything of it, once he woke up, meanwhile you adjusted your hair in a quick braid, trying to look busy as the man next to you moved to stretch himself a bit and then collect the leather straps and his chest piece he had had discarded to sleep more comfortably.

You both moved uncomfortably around each other, both unused to being close to another, but you couldn’t help but laugh a bit for the way the king seemed so awkward and embarrassed.

It eventually made you gain the upper hand, after the outburst of the previous night.

… which made you want to almost bang your head against a wall.

If there was one thing that your mother always said, it was to never show your weakness to men: they’d either treat you like an idiot or they’d take advantage of it.

But Harald simply didn’t want to talk about it, looking at you like a lost puppy looking for direction.

And you decided to spare him, asking him whether he’d stay for breakfast, something for which his stomach replied for him.

‘I don’t need my power to know that you are quite famished, my king’.

He had just shook his head away from you, laughing lightly.

‘… and by the way you men are either hungry or…’ flashes of the previous night appeared in your mind ‘… horny’.

‘You don’t have a high opinion of my gender, do you?’ he had replied, softly, not a reprimand, but almost a different question from the one he had uttered, under his words.

That you couldn’t answer.

‘Can you blame me?’.

Your algid voice caught him unprepared and he just shook his head, lightly before he moved to the kitchen, leaving you the privacy of pushing on a proper dress, and to freshen up yourself as you were solely able to rub painfully the water on the zones that Jorun had touched.

You’d also need to change your gauzes, and to check whether the bone was starting to straighten itself or not.

You hoped it would, because you needed very much your hands for your work, and if not for that… you surely needed them to defend yourself, because sadly, you’d be as good as dead, without a working arm.

You adjusted a few flowers in your hair to help yourself brighten your appearance, since it looked quite pale and you looked definitely as ghostly as you felt in the inside.

Swallowing bile and piercing the skin of your palms with your nails.

For a moment a tight image appeared in the mirror, a you, bloodied and bruised you.

Your eyes held none of the will of living, you had always owned.

And you turned the mirror, hiding yourself from your eyes.

You instead focused on the lovely smell you were feeling coming from the kitchen.

And then you recognized it, rushing forward as you saw Harald trying to peel a few fruits that you had in your house.

The small tin of spices in front of him, but you could already sniff that he had dipped some of it in the brew he had made, contained in a glass, and you rushed to grab it as you checked how much he had consumed, knowing that not only this spice was expensive, but you wouldn’t have found it for sure at Vestfold.

“I didn’t think it was poisonous” excused himself Harald, noticing your worry, as you moved to hide away the spice “… please tell me that it wasn’t poisonous”.

“That depends…” you mumbled, as you saw the man’s skin turn deliciously red, as he sent you a worried look, which made you smile lightly “… if you have taken too much, your old stomach might trouble you”.

“I am not as old as you think I am” he retorted grumpily, with an adorable expression of indignation “… how old do you truly think I am, little one?”.

“I don’t know…” you pondered, with a finger to your chin “… had Odin already defeated the giants when you were born or…?”.

He flipped you off and you couldn’t now stop yourself from laughing out loud, as he soon joined you, welcoming you in front of him, as you took also a fruit and a knife, feeling your stomach being quite troubled, but at least peeling would have kept your mind off.

Although you weren’t sure that it was a good idea for you to hold a knife so close to you.

Harald seemed to agree, pushing his already peeled fruit in your hands, taking the knife and the fruit away from you, as if he was completely unbothered by it all, almost used to this routine.

You let him do it, as you played around with the fruit, eventually daring for a small bite, just as the king dared to speak:

“You’ll come with me today, I’ll bring you in the hall, to be safe” his voice was a clear order, but you didn’t let it push you down.

“I can handle myself”.

“You said so too, yesterday” he mumbled now softening his tone, as his eyes moved to your broken arm, a clear weakness for you “… but I don’t think that you are in any shape to kick some ass”.

“Yet, there are other ways” you replied, tightly.

You could have hidden for a few days in the forest, it wouldn’t have been pleasurable and getting any sleep would have been impossible, but you had done it after your mother’s death, and you could do it again.

“You pointed out yesterday that you aren’t welcome in the town, so I don’t think that you can stay a few days with someone” he pushed the reality in front of your eyes, searching them as he finished the peeling of his own fruit, taking a good bite at it, as juices dirtied his beard “… and I know that you haven’t any family here”.

“Have you been doing researches on me?” your blood froze in your veins, although you tried to utter those words with as much indignation as you owned in your body.

“My earls haven’t been… happy of your presence and I had to reassure them” he looked honestly embarrassed, almost as if your tone had had its effect on him.

Harald Finehair, the toughest man in all Sweden was proving himself to be quiet tamer than you had thought.

“Did you?” he shot you a confused look “… did you reassure them that I am a true witch and not solely somebody who is here to use your money and then take your throne?”.

“You wouldn’t take my throne” his voice was now rough, but sincere “… you have this power in you, and yet you live in a hut”.

Now it was your time to blink as you lowered your head pitifully, looking at the half-bitten fruit.

“… I like my hut”.

“You don’t have the ambition to be a rebel” the arrogant affirmation made breath come out of your lungs.

You hadn’t always been like this.

You had been a happy child, puffy cheeks and soft eyes, always running away from your mother.

But something had been broken in you, a long time ago.

And you had lost all your ambition.

Although right now it shone brightly in embers.

“… excuse me, but fuck yourself, king” you mumbled, as Harald’s eyes dropped, recognizing the anger in his voice “… if you treat women like this, I now do know why they run away from you”.

You had said that to anger him, you knew it.

But Harald looked almost heartbroken at your vicious word, and lowered his own head, pushing down his knife, and piercing his hands with the core of the fruit, all it was left of it, to the point that you were sure he was going to snap it.

“You’ll come with me at the hall, today” this time it wasn’t a veiled order.

It was an order.

“… then tomorrow I’ll arrange for a guard to station here, for a few days, at least till that arm get better. If you want you may ask my healer to check on it, but I am sure that stubborn head of yours won’t allow it”.

And before you could come up with any smartass reply about your ‘stubborn head’ Harald had moved away to get his horse ready, and you were left alone, thinking about whether you had just signed over your own death sentence.

* * *

The ride with Harald back to the hall was quiet.

You had taken enough for a night, hoping that your staying wouldn’t prolong itself for further than that.

Although you didn’t like holding onto places, you felt comfortable and safe in your hut.

Although you weren’t sure you’d be able to wash away the stains of Jorun’s memory from your body and the tiles of your floor.

Since you didn’t have a horse and your arm was broken, you shared Harald’s.

He had to settle himself behind you over the horse, to guide the animal as you were gripped by his essence and touch.

Something that would have made you uncomfortable after what had happened, the previous day.

Harald also seemed to realize it, settling himself so that you wouldn’t have any contact unless necessary, but you couldn’t help but feel almost protected by him, as his rough manly smell, mixed with yours, probably taken meanwhile you slept together.

It felt almost good.

Lulled by the rhythmic moving of Harald’s stallion, under you, you fell asleep.

Only waking up as you felt yourself being moved off gently by the horse, as Harald held you softly in his arms.

Which you escaped immediately, looking around to see if there was anybody around as you slowly came back to your senses, simply seeing a few guards, who were extremely careful in hiding their smiles.

“I can walk” you mumbled, once you were back to your feet, as Harald nodded with a smirk on his face “I didn’t break my leg”.

“You snored, pretty loudly” he said, once you were inside, nobody there except you, since it was pretty early, and it was a market day.

“Never as your father last night” you retorted, showing him a bit of a foul mouth that surprised him, before he shook his head, amused, and brought you to a guest room, as you held tight to yourself your small bassoon.

“You are a true pain in the ass, little seer, and the worst is that you know it” he mumbled more to himself than for you, but you still gave him a light smirk “… don’t wander off, without a guard”.

“Don’t tell me what to do” you retorted effectively challenging him.

“… I would gladly have you closed in your room, but you said that it isn’t the best way to a woman’s heart, so I’ll avoid it…” why did he have to be such a smartass?

Using your own words against you.

“… and also, there isn’t much that you can do with a broken arm”.

And you showed him exactly what you could do with a single finger, before he moved off, leaving you to push yourself for comfort, as a guard came to take a stand in front of your door, asking you if you’d need any help.

‘Yeah, I’d like to erase the fact that a man tried to take advantage of me again, and that king Harald, the man I have been conning, came to rescue me and he has been taking care of me as if he cares for me’.

“No, thank you” you simply replied, with the fakest smile on your face, as you closed the door right in his face.

You passed the afternoon, basically probing at your swelling arm, as you let it out of the gauze, glad that the bone wasn’t crooked or anything, but certainly for a good month you wouldn’t have been able to use it properly.

But it was better than for it to have broken out of your skin, which was lightly bruising with broken veins of a purple color.

You dosed on it some of the lotions that you had brought with yourself, alongside a change of clothes and your spices, comforted by their familiar smell, as you decided to try to exercise a bit the arm.

But you were mostly annoyed, feeling like you had just made yourself a prisoner.

You didn’t want to go out, both fearing the judgement of the people outside and both fearing something happening to you.

Although Harald was a smartass, he was right about a broken arm being a pretty weakness.

So, you were left to your own boredom.

And your own thoughts, which was even worse.

Because now you could feel your mind spiraling.

And then a thrilling laugh woke you, from your dark thoughts.

And you moved to the door with your ear against it, as you caught another two women’s voices, as you realized that they had been talking about you.

“… the king has brought a new lady” said the voice that had laughed, light and soft, almost airy and breathy “… do you think that he kidnapped her too?”.

You already liked these people.

“No, sadly… the guards said that she is here because the king said so” mumbled a quieter but steadier voice “… which if you think might be indeed considered, kidnapping”.

“Saga! Frigg! Shut your fat mouths!” this voice was graver and you linked it to an older woman, probably their mistress, since the giggles immediately quieted “… you’ll get your tongues cut for saying that”.

“… Ingrid! Just let us have a bit of fun! At least as long as the master isn’t home!” complained the softer girl, who you thought was Saga, because the second one replied, lightly:

“Saga is right! We should enjoy our freedom for a bit, since he’ll stay the entire day at the market”.

“He has been low key spending more and more time away from here…” pondered Saga, not that I am complaining, I can do my chores with more ease”.

And the girls continued on chirping in about Harald.

Meanwhile you couldn’t help but realize that Harald had been acting on your suggestions.

‘Stay with your people, show yourself around and share their burdens’ you had told him, on your first sessions ‘… that won’t make them see you as an unknown king, but you’ll be their king and they’ll be loyal to you, for sure’.

He had seriously… been following your suggestions.

And you felt your heart chirping as the girls outside of the doors, at that.

And again, the want to smack yourself across the face came back.

In the end, you’d have gotten nothing from keeping up with that overthinking and decided to open lightly the door, gaining a few ‘oh’s from the ladies waiting outside, who tried to move themselves further than they had been a few minutes, to hide their own spying.

The older one, Ingrid you thought, immediately pushed herself forward, in her lean and tall form, her hair peppered with grey and her eyes tired, and asked you if you needed anything, taking in your discarded figure and more importantly your limp arm.

A dark glare was shared between Saga and Frigg as they took it in.

“Ahem… not really, I just…” you felt awkward, since it had been quite some time since you had last been able to chat without contracting prices or defending yourself.

The best talks you had had in quite some time, although you weren’t proud to admit it, were with Harald.

“… is your arm hurting you, lady?” asked the blonde girl, lightly curvy and with puffy cheeks, something that resembled the Saxon definition of an angel, and you were able to link the name Saga to her, as her soft tone completely wrapped around you.

“A bit, but I took some herbs to numb the pain” you explained, glad that you could answer question.

“… did you fall from a horse?” asked Frigg instead, a pretty brunette girl, the smallest of the three but with a fire in her eyes that brought her to shine as bright as a star “… it seems serious”.

“Not too much, actually, I was lucky the bone didn’t break out of my skin” you explained as you withhold her gaze, to make her understand that it hadn’t been Harald.

Because that had been the question in her eyes.

And you couldn’t help but find endearing her worry.

Maybe if you had met more people like her, you would have liked spending more time with them, instead of hiding in the full nature.

“… do you want us to get some gauze and wooden bars to help you straighten it up?” asked Ingrid, eager to help, almost as if she was used to being ordered around and she thought it wasn’t ordinary not to be commanded by Harald’s guests.

“Ah, thank you, but I am mostly letting it out to avoid the skin being too dry and having blood problems later” you explained, but Ingrid’s worry didn’t look lessened in the slightest ad you asked her to get you some lotion, which seemed to make her extremely happy, as you felt Saga’s eyes on your limp limbs.

“Can I touch it?” asked Saga, pointing to your limb, as Frigg lightly decked her on her arm “Ouch!”.

“Sorry, my lady, my sister doesn’t think before talking”.

You looked at the surprised, because they didn’t look like sisters in the slightest: whereas Saga was puffy and soft, Frigg was tight-wounded and sharp, both beautiful but as distant as the sun and moon.

Frigg seemed to finally understand your surprise at that news and blushed lightly, before elbowing her sister, who spurred on croaked.

“My family took in Frigg, when her mother died”.

Your gaze immediately softened as Frigg, lowered her head, something similar to shame on her face.

“… I am sorry to hear that” you mumbled, gently offering your uninjured arm to the smaller girl, who seemed surprised by your gentleness “… I have also lost my mother, ten winter ago, I can imagine how difficult it can be”.

And for a minute you and Frigg were brought together in some kind of magical spell.

Your eyes sharing respect for another survivor.

And then Saga touched your swollen arm, making you hiss as Frigg pulled her eyes to the roof above you.

“That’s so cool!” commented Saga, as she lifted her eyes to you, seeing that you weren’t exactly comfortable “… sorry”.

“Saga wished to become a healer…” mumbled Frigg, justifying her sister, as she brought her a bit away from you “… or a torturer”.

“I did! But…” her eyes suddenly became lightly lost “… father said I am not very smart”.

You couldn’t help but dig your nails in the soft skin of your palm, as you heard that.

“Well, you don’t need to be smart for being a healer” you mumbled softly “… you just need a good teacher”.

Saga’s eyes brightened a bit, as a small smile appeared on Frigg’s face.

“I am not a proper healer, but I can teach you a few things” you proposed softly “… you can help me band up my arm”.

“I wouldn’t suggest that” Frigg commented “… lady, she is particularly clumsy”.

“Well, first of all: there is no need to call me lady, just (Y/N)” you insisted “… and believe me there isn’t much damage she could do, since it is already broken”.

* * *

And although you had to admit that Saga hadn’t the most careful touch, she learned quickly and moved even more, having your arm bandaged ever quicker than you could do, as Frigg observed around the room, looking curious, but justifying it as checking if you needed anything.

And you let her do it, since you didn’t have anything dangerous…

… laying around, at least.

Then the girls gossiped a bit with you, something that made you almost feel normal and you were more than happy to indulge them in your silly talks, as they laughed at your surprise when you heard the scandalous rumors of the town that had never let you in.

Till Harald walked in.

And then both Frigg and Saga moved to their feet, bowing at the king, almost as if they didn’t know whether to stay with you and have some fun or to move away, now that Harald was there.

But Harald solved it for them.

“Don’t you have chores to do?” he asked simply, and the two women excused themselves scurrying off, as you moved to send him an annoyed stare “… they are servants”.

“They brightened my dull afternoon” you replied with a sharp tongue.

“… you could have asked me to spend it with you” now it was him who had a smart smile on his face “… I certainly would have made your afternoon less dull”.

“Why do I even bother?” you muttered, facing away from him, an annoyed look on your face.

“Because I pay you” he spoke gingerly “… and because after all you like annoying me”.

“I just don’t like when you do it to me” you tried to appear completely unbothered “… I should be the only one allowed to do it”.

“That’d be unfair, milady”.

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you turned to Harald, who had gently closed the door behind him, making you understand that what he wanted to discuss with you wasn’t to be heard.

“I went to Vidgis” he spoke, making you send him a small look “… I told her to send the dresses you ordered here, alongside mine, because I sadly can’t let you go back, to your small hut”.

“Do you seriously intend to kidnap me?” your shock activated your immediate sarcasm.

“… I have been having a few small riots at the borders, and I need all my guards there, so I won’t have anybody protecting you and your house, for these days” he explained quickly, making you grimace lightly.

“I can go back on my own”.

“And risk getting attacked by Jorun’s friends? I want to avoid that” he uttered, his tone an order that you didn’t want to hear “… why is it so ‘horrible’ for you to stay here, in my castle, all sheltered and with a servant for every need of yours?”.

“Why do you care so much about me?” you replied, with the same annoyed irritation “… because I am nothing to you, Harald, truly. I am not blood and neither a lover”.

He seemed taken aback and you wondered whether for a moment he had thought that your gentleness with him was your way of flirting with him.

To get him to be your lover.

You felt suddenly choked.

But Harald shook himself quickly.

“Why do you have to question the hand that feeds you?” he mumbled, hissing the question through his teeths.

“Nobody does anything for nothing” you replied “… name your price, because if it is my open legs…”.

“Woman, would you stop thinking badly of me for a minute?!” his face was red, and you couldn’t help but be a bit surprised by such an intimate expression as his eyes didn’t try to meet you “… I wouldn’t do that to you… I just…”.

“What do you want, Harald, then?” you pushed him further and he raised his eyes to meet yours, shining with an honesty and an ache that made you for a moment, ashamed.

“… your suggestions are useful, although you speak with such a sharp tongue” now his tone was back in check, extremely kingly “… that’s why I want to keep you around, because others won’t tell me where I go wrong, but you won’t hesitate to make me notice even in the slightest any flaw of mine”.

You were speechless, taken aback completely.

It was so utter sincere, that it should have hurt you.

But you were reassured to know that he hadn’t no further reasons to care for you.

That it was simply… for his own advantage.

No, it didn’t hurt you in the slightest.

And even if it did, you couldn’t just show it to him right now.

“I’ll stay” you were now hurrying to get yourself rid of him “… for a week, and then I’ll go back home, and you can’t stop me”.

“Wouldn’t even think about it”.

* * *

Your dinner had been consumed in silence.

And your night had been as well, as you had fallen in bed suddenly feeling tired.

You didn’t dream of nothing more than the intense black night that fell onto you, caressing as a mother.

But your sleep wasn’t long, and you woke up as soon as the Sun peaked through the curtains, making you turn and turn on the bed, till both the side of the bed were warm because of your movements.

And eventually you thought about waking up.

The covers being too hot, and your arm screaming for attention, as you disentangled your home-made cast, as you pushed yourself to the window of your room.

You looked at the calm moving of the sun, yawning because although your mind was active, your body wasn’t, hence you kept your day lazy as you went through the first thoughts of the day.

Harald’s confession.

You shouldn’t have been surprised by his admission of needing your suggestions to survive.

You had prided yourself with that thought.

But now, it just… it seemed almost stained with shame.

Because Harald was genuine towards his need to help you, almost protective in a way that he hadn’t any obligation to be.

Something that still pained you.

Because you didn’t deserve it.

And you were still worried it wasn’t genuine.

But you had put yourself in this game.

And you’d get yourself up.

As soon as it was a decent hour, you moved out of your room, intent on moving in the kitchens to be allowed to eat there, since you had no intention of revealing your presence there to Harald’s subject.

They already thought that you were his whore.

Oh, how were they wrong.

Because had they witnessed the exchange of words of the previous night, they’d have certainly realized that he was your whore.

Doing your bidding and taking care of you.

You were glad to find on your way to the kitchens both Frigg and Saga, who were even more than glad to lead you there, surprised by your decision to eat with the servants, but your stomach had just grumbled so loudly that they hadn’t questioned your decision further.

You were glad to spend some more time with the girls, since it was easy to talk with them, and they were quite chatty, definitely pushing away all the bad thoughts in your mind.

It had been such a long time since girls had come to you as friend and not clients, with eyes full of suspicion, that just made you uncomfortable.

But the two sisters were more than happy to exchange a few laughs with you.

And they even accompanied you back to your room, to help you get ready, mostly to bathe, since as Saga had commented after a few minutes.

‘You smell like a horse more than the arse of a soldier’.

Frigg had just decked her sister on the arm, and meanwhile you were finishing the bath, you heard small giggles coming from the main room, linked to the small private bathroom definitely made for a female, either Harald’s wife or daughter.

Something that made you a bit uneasy.

But he had good taste, if he had been the one who had set it up.

It was clean and homely, maybe a bit more than it was fashionable, but for Harald, a man who thought more with heart than his dick, it wasn’t that strange, and it made you feel less uneasy about having left the hut.

If you had to stay there for a week, you wouldn’t have certainly complained for the place.

As you moved out, the girls’ giggles were due to your dress having finally arrived and they were admiring it, immediately blushing as they were caught by you, and you simply told them to keep on looking at it, since you couldn’t do much, till at least your hair were wet.

Saga had a malicious smile on her face, and it didn’t take her long to ask you whether she could try it on.

‘Oh, Gosh, Saga! Don’t you have manners!’ complained Frigg ‘… and you aren’t in the slightest like lady… I mean… (Y/N)’.

Saga had immediately looked discouraged, but you had insisted she did try it on.

‘I do think that the color would suit you better, Saga’ you suggested ‘Do try it on, please’.

And she didn’t need to be told a second time, as she hurried in the dress, with little shame for her undressed state, as she put it on quickly, fastening lightly the ties, behind it, helped by Frigg, who had slowly moved in a less sour mood, enjoying the small smirk that was on her sister’s face.

The dress was a beautiful creation of a bluish fabric that complimented your skin tone, but even more it had been shaped perfectly for the body of the wearer, suiting Saga enough, that you almost thought that it wasn’t worth to keep it.

That you should have gifted it to her.

It was sultry and lightly shiny in its front, to bring out the attention to the right parts of your body.

It caught almost fire as light touched it, in a heavenly creation.

And then something happened.

Saga turned to you, and suddenly her smile became a grimace, almost as if she had pricked herself with a needle, and for a moment you thought that she had, although it wouldn’t have been extremely unprofessional for Vidgis to forget one inside the dress.

But then she turned to you and started choking on air.

And before you knew it, she fell onto the ground, Frigg immediately on her knees beside her, alongside you who pushed the other girl aside to check on Saga, as she was shaken by convulsions.

You quickly checked on Saga, who had started becoming quite purple-y, effectively her air being stolen by her lungs, and you didn’t think this was accidental, in the slightest.

Saga wasn’t in the slightest unhealthy, so it had to be the dress.

You quickly pushed your robe away from your body, standing naked in front of the girls as you moved to bind together the robe over your hands, to avoid whatever the dress had been drown in sticking also to your skin.

Uncaring of the expensive fabric, you opened the dress, rapturing its stitched to get it even more quickly the dress away from Saga, helped by Frigg, who although shocked, followed quickly through your actions.

Although Saga, breathed deeply, her body was shaken by feverish convulsions and you could finally realize that the dress had been poisoned.

You just had to understand with what.

You pushed a bit of the fabric of the dress, close to your body as Frigg asked you what to do.

But you couldn’t do much, till you understood what had been introduced in Saga’s body.

The dress was full of the smell of Saga, which covered the poison.

But there were also many poisons that wouldn’t leave out any distinctive smell.

Irritation for yourself coursed through your veins, as you thought about what Vidgis might have laced in the dress.

On what she might have put her hands on.

And then you found out what.

And rushed in your bag to take back the antidote, something that had been saved by Jorun’s rummaging in your house.

Saga would have to thank Odin, if she survived through this.

You rushed to her, pushing the antidote through the mouth, making her choking back to it and spit it back, something that made you and Frigg hold a breath, as the younger mumbled tightly:

‘Please Saga, I won’t ever make fun of you… please…’ she pleaded softly, as you tried to grasp onto her hand but she was too nervous ‘… please breath’.

And almost as if spurred on by an order, Saga breathed, normally.

And it made you realize something.

And you rushed out, quickly putting on a fur over your naked body, stopping an handmaiden, and asking her where Harald slept.

The poor woman was too confused by your presence and crazed eyes to think that you had any suspicious intention and gave you quick instructions as you ran to his room.

And opened the door to a shirtless Harald, the new clothes laid neatly in the paper that they had been wrapped in, something that made you let out a deep breath of relief.

“If you were so in need of my naked chest, all you had to do was ask” he mumbled tightly.

“Don’t touch the new clothes” you screamed immediately, uncaring of his sarcasm.

“… because you are going to rip them away from me, don’t you?” he asked tightly, with another smartass smirk.

“No, you idiot, because they are fucking laced with poison”.

And this was enough to get his smirk away from his face.

“How… do… “ and then he rushed to you grabbing your hands, almost as if he wanted to check on you “… are you alright?”.

“Yes yes” you spoke, as you felt all the tiredness of these events falling onto you “… it was Saga who…”.

Suddenly you couldn’t help but realize the shocking truth.

That dress had been made for you.

You should have been the one barely breathing like Saga.

You should have checked on her.

But as you made to turn around, Harald’s hands that were still linked with yours brought you back to look at him.

“Vidgis tried to poison me, you know what that means”.

That she had almost committed regicide.

An act of treason.

“I really need to check on Saga, but then we’ll have a talk about this” you promised to him, the warmth of his hands going unnoticed to you.

Almost as if it was a natural gesture.

“… this isn’t anymore a personal attack to you” he spoke, his voice suddenly rough “… this is a betrayal to my crown”.


End file.
